Z Rated Romance

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Rex and I have two kids - 5 and 3 and a half. We weren't planning on having two babies so close together, but it turns out you're supposed to take the birth control pill every day if you want to avoid any slip-ups. Who'd have thunk? Not us.

In the early days of parenting, with only one very easy going baby to deal with, we didn't really think too much. What was there to analyze? Our life was perfect. Complete. Unlike some couples who complain that a new baby tears their worlds upside down, our son transformed us. My husband, whose has the word "stoic" embedded in his forehead lines, melted into a mushy ball of papa emotion the moment he laid eyes on our son. He broke into sobs of elation so strongly on the way home from the hospital; I thought I might have inadvertently transferred post partum depression to him. You know, through some kind of Star Trek geek osmosis. But no. He was just beside himself in awe. Rex, who normally can't sleep if I dare breathe the wrong way at 2am, insisted that Stink sleep on his chest the first night he came home. That's a lot of bonding time for one little 3 day old to deal with. Not to mention chest hair. But neither Stink, nor Papa, was any worse for wear the next day.

For the next nine months, we lived in a constant state of exhilaration. My husband, who is not normally the most social, might as well have put a sign on the lawn screaming to the world, "I have a son! Come in! Eat our food! Look how friggin' adorable he is! And his head - it's a perfect circle! Like Cartman, only cuter! And without the cheesy puffs!"

Our giddiness over our boy overflowed into other areas of life. We enjoyed quiet dinners, long uninterrupted walks, and weekly movies that we could count on thanks to Stink's predictable sleep pattern. With the most beautiful baby in the world sleeping right upstairs, and a promotion from Rex's boss, there seemed no end to our jubilant celebration. What better way to toast our good fortune than to have sex? Lots of it. Which is what led us to baby #2 in such a relatively short time.

And then the perfect little bubble popped. We adored Pipsqueak. We did. To this day we marvel at how we landed the sweetest, smartest, funniest girl on the planet. As my aunt once remarked, "Oh, Andrea, she is just like you! Only much prettier!" (I think that was a compliment?) The fact is, Pip was not an easy baby. She was loud. I mean we thought about nicknaming her Princess or Button, but Pipsqueak was much more accurate. Sometimes we referred to her as the Howler. Unlike Stink whose birth announcement read "We welcome with joy our newborn son" Pip's might as well said, "I HAVE ARRIVED."

Sadly, we never made an announcement for poor Pip. We were too busy having the ever living daylights beaten out of us. Not just by her, but by the dynamic of two babies so close together. You see, sweet little newborns don't stay tiny for long. Before we knew it, we had two active people demanding our time, insisting on full attention, and sucking the living energy right out of us. And while unconditionally gave our babies everything we had, we forgot to give it to ourselves.

Well, we didn't forget to nurture each other. We just chose to, in the few rare moments of peace and quiet, show our mutual admiration for each other by sleeping like the dead. In fact, one might even call our sex life Z-rated. As in lots of zzzzz's = no R rated lovemaking.

Now that our kids are both in school three days/week, I have alone time once again. This means I'm not begging my husband to take the kids for a few hours each weekend so I can thrift store shop, or write in peace. It means we have more time for us individually, as a couple, and as a family. It means that some of the old joy is creeping in. I'm scared to put this to print, but do you know that in the past month we've watched 8 movies on DVD? That's the equivalent of stigmata. Or the media leaving the Spears girls alone. A bonified miracle. Dare I say it, we're achieving that elusive state known to the spiritually minded, and my anal check balancing husband, as balance?

Just the other night, during our nightly fireside chats (although there is rarely a fire and it's more like me talking a million miles an hour and my husband sort of nodding his head trying to keep up) we commented on our new found zen. It's not like we couldn't at that very moment… with the house so quiet… ignite some of the passion of yore. I took off my husband's shirt, and slowly started unbuttoning mine. I told him how happy I was about the peace in the house. The easy going routine. I reminded him that it hasn't been this idyllic in over three years. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Rex moaned in anticipation. "I hope so," I answered back. "Let's have another baby."

If running upstairs with his privates covered by a stray cereal bowl was any indication, I'm thinking that's not what Rex had in mind.